If one classed him at all it would be as the countryman of Hegel and Kant，as the idealist，inclined to be dreamy，whose Imperialism was the Imperialism of the air.Not that his life had been inactive.He had fought like blazes against Denmark，Austria，France.But he had fought without visualizing the results of victory.A hint of the truth broke on him after Sedan，when he saw the dyed moustaches of Napoleon going grey；another when he entered Paris，and saw the smashed windows of the Tuileries.
Peace came--it was all very immense，one had turned into an Empire--but he knew that some quality had vanished for which not all Alsace-Lorraine could compensate him.Germany a commercial Power，Germany a naval Power，Germany with colonies here and a Forward Policy there，and legitimate aspirations in the other place，might appeal to others，and be fitly served by them；for his own part，he abstained from the fruits of victory，and naturalized himself in England.The more earnest members of his family never forgave him，and knew that his children，though scarcely English of the dreadful sort，would never be German to the backbone.He had obtained work in one of our provincial Universities，and there married Poor Emily (or Die Engl?nderin as the case may be)，and as she had money，they proceeded to London，and came to know a good many people.
But his gaze was always fixed beyond the sea.It was his hope that the clouds of materialism obscuring the Fatherland would part in time，and the mild intellectual light re-emerge."Do you imply that we Germans are stupid，Uncle Ernst？"exclaimed a haughty and magnificent nephew.
Uncle Ernst replied，"To my mind.You use the intellect，but you no longer care about it.That I call stupidity."As the haughty nephew did not follow，he continued，"You only care about the'things that you can use，and therefore arrange them in the following order：Money，supremely useful；intellect，rather useful；imagination，of no use at all.
No"--for the other had protested--"your Pan-Germanism is no more imaginative than is our Imperialism over here.It is the vice of a vulgar mind to be thrilled by bigness，to think that a thousand square miles are a thousand times more wonderful than one square mile，and that a million square miles are almost the same as heaven.That is not imagination.
No，it kills it.When their poets over here try to celebrate bigness they are dead at once，and naturally.Your poets too are dying，your philosophers，your musicians，to whom Europe has listened for two hundred years.Gone.Gone with the little courts that nurtured them--gone with Esterhaz and Weimar.What？What's that？Your Universities？
Oh，yes，you have learned men，who collect more facts than do the learned men of England.They collect facts，and facts，and empires of facts.
But which of them will rekindle the light within？"To all this Margaret listened，sitting on the haughty nephew's knee.
It was a unique education for the little girls.
The haughty nephew would be at Wickham Place one day，bringing with him an even haughtier wife，both convinced that Germany was appointed by God to govern the world.Aunt Juley would come the next day，convinced that Great Britain had been appointed to the same post by the same authority.
Were both these loud-voiced parties right？On one occasion they had met，and Margaret with clasped hands had implored them to argue the subject out in her presence.Whereat they blushed，and began to talk about the weather."Papa"she cried--she was a most offensive child--"why will they not discuss this most clear question？"Her father，surveying the parties grimly，replied that he did not know.Putting her head on one side，Margaret then remarked，"To me one of two things is very clear；either God does not know his own mind about England and Germany，or else these do not know the mind of God."A hateful little girl，but at thirteen she had grasped a dilemma that most people travel through life without perceiving.Her brain darted up and down；it grew pliant and strong.
Her conclusion was，that any human being lies nearer to the unseen than any organization，and from this she never varied.
Helen advanced along the same lines，though with a more irresponsible tread.In character she resembled her sister，but she was pretty，and so apt to have a more amusing time.People gathered round her more readily，especially when they were new acquaintances，and she did enjoy a little homage very much.When their father died and they ruled alone at Wickham Place，she often absorbed the whole of the company，while Margaret--both were tremendous talkers--fell flat.
Neither sister bothered about this.Helen never apologized afterwards，Margaret did not feel the slightest rancour.But looks have their influence upon character.The sisters were alike as little girls，but at the time of the Wilcox episode their methods were beginning to diverge；the younger was rather apt to entice people，and，in enticing them，to be herself enticed；the elder went straight ahead，and accepted an occasional failure as part of the game.
Little need be premised about Tibby.He was now an intelligent man of sixteen，but dyspeptic and difficile.
